Anger Management
by unicornhime
Summary: Edward gets a little carried away in his anger at Bella for doing something stupid. Or rather, in his apology. E/B One-shot


_AN – So I'm really bored. And I discovered a few fics that I had written but hadn't posted here. This is one of them. It's a pure one-shot written for a request from a community over at livejournal. Characters are Stephenie Meyer's, I'm just borrowing them. _

_--- _

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

I'll admit it, I exploded. My anger and fear overruled all sense of control and I yelled at her. I could feel the ghosts of adrenaline course through my dead veins and I couldn't stop the harsh words from escaping my lips.

I regretted it almost as soon as the words were airborne.

She shrank back as if I'd physically hit her, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"When has hiking through the woods in the dead of night in the middle of a _snow storm_ ever been a good idea?" My words had a life all their own and kept flying out.

She bristled, "Well excuse me, but I didn't _know_ it was going to start dumping snow on me. And I hadn't planned on going far. It's your own fault for not being here when you said you would be," she retorted, folding her arms across her chest and decidedly _not_ looking at me.

"Bella," my voice was low and dangerous. "Look at me." She refused. "Bella," I tried again, and she turned her whole body away from me.

I stopped the low growl threatening to sound deep in my throat. The sight of her back turned to me suddenly hit me like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water one me.

I might have over-reacted. A little.

She had only been maybe a hundred yards from the house. Easily in sight, even for her, if the snowstorm hadn't hit. And she was right, I'd said I would be there and I wasn't. I had been held up at the house, not realizing how important it was that I be there exactly when I said I would be.

I should have known that she would come look for me, as ridiculous the idea seemed.

I sighed, anger slowly fading. "Bella, please look at me," my voice was still low, but contrite, no longer menacing.

Her body stiffened, noticing the change in my tone, and her heart sped up.

But she didn't turn around and I didn't dare force her if she was still angry at me.

But then I smelt the bitter scent of salt in the air and I was standing in front of her in an instant. "Bella, are you crying?"

She looked up at me startled when my voice came from in front of her instead of behind, and sure enough, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Once her eyes met mine, she couldn't seem to tear them away.

Defiantly, she tried to wipe the tears away as she mumbled no.

I felt the wave of self-hate wash over me and I reached out to hold her face in my hands. She was so warm, flushed from running through the snow. She didn't flinch away from my icy touch, only continued to stare defiantly up at me. I was suddenly desperate for her to understand. I needed her to feel what I was feeling. I needed to feel _her_.

"Bella, do you understand why I was so angry?"

"Was?"

"Yes, Love, was." I lowered my forehead to hers, "You know I can't bear the thought of loosing you, and to find you crumpled in the snow not 100 yards from your own house, and so still," I shuddered, remembering how frightened I had been, "I got angry at myself for not being there and I took that out on you." I lightly kissed the tip of her nose, "I'm sorry."

She was silent and pulled back slightly to look at me properly, gauging my sincerity. Then she sighed as well, "And then I got angry at you for it. I don't know why you bother with me."

"Bella!" My voice was sharp with alarm, "Don't ever think like that." I wanted to shake her to reinforce my words, but feared the trace anger would put too much force in the motion. "Don't you dare ever doubt your value to me."

She still looked doubtful and wrapped her hands around my wrists, as if to anchor herself to me.

I could think of a better anchor than that.

I eased my hands back until they were firmly behind her head, entangled in her soft hair. I kissed her forehead again, every so softly, then started moving down the right side of her face. She exhaled slowly as I kissed her temple, the corner of her eye, the top of her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth, before I slowly whispered against her skin, "Breathe, Bella."

Her heart was racing, pounding against her chest. I wanted it closer to my own still heart. She laughed lightly as she remembered to inhale, and her hands loosened their grasp on my wrist, tracing their way to wind around my neck. Their warmth urged me on.

She was twisting slightly, trying to meet my lips with her own deliciously pink ones.

Not yet. I kissed the other far corner of her mouth and began the trail further down, kissing along her jaw line.

My left hand began trailing down as well, wanting to push her warm body against the hard lines of my own. She still had her heavy coat on and I couldn't get close enough to her through all the fabric. Listening to her rapid breathing, I unzipped the coat and eased in off her, my hands resting against her hips as the coat fell to the bedroom floor.

She seemed to think there was too much fabric in between as well and her hands slowly traced two lines down my chest and slipped under my light sweater. Her warm skin sent chills of pleasure racing through me.

"Bella," I whispered roughly in her ear, "Behave."

"Don't want to too," she managed to slip out in between kisses along my neck, since she couldn't reach my lips.

Still feeling the warm skin against my back, I surrounded to her lips, capturing them with my own.

She let out a little moan of pleasure and I pulled her closer - if that was possible. Her hips fit perfectly against mine and the sensation of her so close made me feel warmer than I thought possible. I pulled her by the belt loops of her jeans, wanting to be closer, ever closer, but never close enough.

But at least she wasn't mad anymore.

My breath was coming ragged now, I was getting too close to the line, that un-crossable line.

Bella could feel it coming, too, her hands were pressed hard against my skin in an effort to hold me longer. Her kiss grew desperate, pleading with me to keep going, to never stop.

Oh, how I wanted to give into her plea.

I began to pull back, increasingly away of how fast her heart was beating, how her luscious blood was racing, and how sweet she smelled. And how fragile she was. I could never forget how fragile she was.

"Don't stop," she whispered against my lips.

"I have to," I whispered back, afraid if I spoke any louder, the sheer volume of my voice would break her.

"No you don't," she said stubbornly, but her motions slowed, accepting the inevitable.

"Sorry, Love."

I pulled away, instantly missing the warmth of her hands against my skin.

"So do you forgive me? For making you wait and letting you wander alone in the snow?"

She snorted ruefully, "You knew I would." She hesitated a moment, calculated, "But only if you forgive yourself."

I kissed her lips lightly once more before completely stepping away. "Thank you."

A mischievous light gleamed in her eyes, "Although not stopping when you don't need to might help your case a little, too."

I laughed, "Nice try."

"It was worth a shot."


End file.
